Gleeson Hospital
© 2019 RGallucci Photography

There are no beds at Gleeson hospital. All that's left, like monuments of remembrance to lives served, are the sturdy adobe walls. But from the late 1800s to the 1930s, this center of health helped the 500 souls that made the dust-laden, arid scrap of land called Gleeson, deep in the southern Arizona high desert, home. Today, Gleeson is just another ghost town on the Arizona landscape, haunted by the recollections etched into the crumbling foundations of its once-bustling downtown.

As I amongst the ruins of this decaying building where once lives were introduced to the world and others bid their final farewell, I could not help but think about the hardscrabble lives lived by the miners, cowboys, outlaws, and shopkeepers who eked out a living from this unforgiving land. Above me, the trail of angels, ever hope-filled, blazed a path upwards into the infinite heavens. This guiding light reminded me that those who struggled all those years ago where now at peace.

In these uncertain times, it is the thoughts inspired by the beauty and glory, whether created by humanity or the creator, that keeps me going. It is these positive thoughts that lift my spirits and remind me of my quest. As one that once lived in ruins, today, I live in the infinite light of redemption. When I eventually arrive at the final appointment, whether through pandemic or natural cause, I hope it will be said that I contributed more to the light that the ruin.

I remain his scribe.


Shoot Date: April 21, 2020
Canon EOS 5D Mark IV
299.0 sec at f/4.0 Bias:0 EV
ISO: ISO 1600
Lens:15mm @ 15 mm